She stepped forward to order. “That’s basically candy,” she said, eyeing his drink. “Says the woman ordering peanut butter banana,” he shot back. She smirked. “Touché.” The exchange lasted maybe a minute.
He gave her a casual wave on his way out. That should’ve been it. But the interaction followed her through her cooldown laps, sitting somewhere just behind the usual rhythm of her thoughts. Three days later, Maya was finishing her strength circuit at the hospital’s physical therapy wing when she saw him again.